


Denouement

by unagis



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Bittersweet, Crush at First Sight, F/M, Ficlet Collection, Multi, Pining, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:06:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23556529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unagis/pseuds/unagis
Summary: They're endearingly dumb and maybe a touch over-dramatic, but you honestly wouldn't have them any other way.
Relationships: Hyoudou Juuza/Reader, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added, Sakuma Sakuya/Reader, Settsu Banri/Reader, Takatoo Tasuku/Reader, Tsukioka Tsumugi/Reader
Comments: 17
Kudos: 63





	1. first love fails

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sakuya has got you tripping over your own words and he didn't even know your name.

Picture this: it's a bright, sunny afternoon and really nothing else could have possibly made your day better than going to your favorite cafe and ordering your usual—a crisp and refreshing iced peach green tea.

The warm sunshine caressed your cheeks as the wind gently ruffled your hair. You were in the ideal romantic comedy setting, the perfect moment for some shoujo action where a hot and completely oblivious schoolmate would walk in, bump into you, and then you would instantly connect and exchange phone numbers in that brief, five second interaction. 

Nothing could possibly go wrong!

Until it did. 

An unexpected call later, and the tragic spilling of your favorite drink, you received news that your sister had taken an unexpected gamble with a... yazuka boss?

You weren't too sure about the details yourself. However, you could tell she was both irritated and stressed, but she kept herself calm and composed. Your sister was good at acting in that retrospect—pretending everything was fine when the world was falling apart. Turns out the Mankai Company, a theater group that your father had managed before his untimely disappearance, was in dire need of new members or else it would be forced to close down.

Your sister ranted for awhile, but you got a basic gist of what she was trying to say. She desperately needed to have all hands on deck, so you were being summoned to help out. Of course, you couldn't refuse. If it had been your father's company, you couldn't let it crumble to nothing. Before hanging up, she gave you a few unnecessary details about the sheer audacity of the blond man with an exasperated huff. 

The line went dead, and you stared at the last of your drink. At least it didn't spill all over you, you sighed ruefully. Quickly, you paid your tab and tipped extra for the spillage before heading out to the meeting spot your sister had chosen. 

It's crowded on Veludo Way. It had always been this way, for all long as you could remember. Honestly, what were you expecting? People just to miraculously part as you squeezed through? Ha, if only it were that simple. People weren't that nice. Or considerate, for that matter. 

So while you were out here pushing by bodies and ducking under elbows, you could only think spiteful thoughts toward whoever made that deal with your sister. For goodness sake, you were relaxing and finally free from the woes of school when you were thrown into yet another hectic situation. A few unsavory insults tumbled from your lips as you grumbled unhappily. You gave up trying to be nice and started pushing back because if they weren't going to move for you, then you were going to make them move. Right when all hope was lost, you spotted it, your beacon in the darkness—it was your sister's unmistakable brown hair. 

"Izumi! Boy, am I glad to see you," you called out to her when you managed to get through the crowd, bounding over and stopping short of an unkempt man and a younger boy with strikingly dark pink hair. 

"Glad you could make it on such a short notice," she smiled, pulling you into her arms in a short hug. "Sorry about taking time from your break, I know you're studying hard for your exams." 

You smiled. "It's not a problem. Besides, this was like dad's _thing_ , I didn't have it in me to let it just disappear y'know?" You curiously shifted your gaze to the two new guys whose faces you had never seen before. You think the unkempt man was near tears. "And who are they?" 

"That man's Matsukawa," Izumi explained. "He's the manager of the Mankai Company."

"Two beautiful daughters...!" you heard him sniffle. "It's a miracle, maybe we're saved." 

Ah. You could see why the company was failing now. 

You switched your attention to the boy who had been quiet this whole time. "And you are...?" you trailed off hesitantly. 

His pink irises snapped back into focus to meet yours, and he greets you with a cheerful tone and a bright smile on his face. "I'm Sakuma Sakuya! It's nice to meet you." 

Your pulse quickened, and for a second, you think you're dying. _Oh no_. He's kinda cute. But like cute in a way that people think whenever they see a puppy on the street. Your face probably looked like a tomato because you also thought puppies were cute and that comparison didn't work at all in helping you calm down.

Okay, you got this. You just needed to take deep breaths. Don't make it weird. 

He was standing casually, smile still present on his face as he waited for your introduction. You're squinting now because you're not sure how one person could manage to be so hopelessly bright. When he doesn't get a response from you, he tilted his head to the side inquisitively and your heart constricted at the sheer adorableness of it all. 

Damn him. 

"Erm," you said, intelligently. "Hello. Um, I'm—"

You're not even beginning your introduction when your sister decided then and there would be an excellent time to gather everyone's attention to discuss a game plan. Internally, you were crying. It seemed that you weren't capable of growing a spine when it actually mattered.

Looks like you weren't getting the cute boy's digits today. 

Almost as if he could sense your distress, his eyes find yours again and they seemed to shine brighter than any star you've seen. Briefly, you wondered if he liked watching the cherry blossoms, because that's exactly what his eyes reminded you of. 

He reached out to take your hand in his, and you combust right then and there. Helplessly, you glanced over to Izumi, who gazed at you with a mischievous twinkle in those honey eyes of hers, before she turned her back to you to further explain things to Matsukawa. Surprised at her betrayal, you staggered backwards in shock. 

"We'll talk more later, but for now, let's do our best!" he said, right after giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. 

Feeling dumb and a little overwhelmed, you blurted the first thing you can think of.

"Yes sir!" You chose to ignore the way your voice raised ten octaves as your heart pounded a mile a minute. 

In the end, you think the way he laughed was worth it.


	2. sugar rush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You, a baker from Home-Ed class, find yourself pining after the school's bad boy Juza (even though you try to deny it).

With sweat accumulating on your already trembling hands and your face as white as the sheets you have at home, you internally scream at the situation you had gotten yourself in. This was an absolutely horrendous idea.

What were you even thinking? Where you even thinking to begin with? Or, as the other kids these days would say it—no thoughts, head fucking empty. 

Your feet have brought you in front of his classroom, all you had to do was go inside. But something was stopping you—the undeniable force of your own nerves. Your knees felt like they were giving out on you and, on god, you hoped (prayed, even) that you didn't look a fraction as red as you felt yourself getting.

This was so silly. You were being silly.

It was just a thank you gesture—nothing more, and nothing less. But, another part of you argued, this was thank you to _Hyodo Juza_ , of all people. Still, the more you think about it, the more nervous you felt because no, this wasn't a crush, and no, he totally didn't look cool when he defended you (and your dignity) after school.

Need you remind yourself that this wasn't an infatuation. Then again, when you think about it seriously, he looked really... cool. 

A sudden, loud clapping noise fills the hall as you slap both hands on your cheeks, undoubtedly leaving bright red handprints in their wake. Whatever! It was all or nothing! You were going to give Juza the sweets you made or else you'd really die trying. 

After your internal pep talk and undoubtedly looking like a weirdo in front of whoever was in the hallway at the time, you steeled your nerves and opened the classroom door only to find absolutely no one in the room. That was when you checked the time. 

_Of course_ you were late. Practically anyone who didn't have a reason to stick around after school would have already gone home. You were such an idiot. 

Feeling a bit better that you wouldn't actually have to hand him the gift, rather than being upset at your wasted time, you're about to heave a sigh of relief when—

"What are you doing?" 

No. _Fucking_. Way. 

You already knew who it was before even turning around. There was no denying that handsome (handsome?) gruff voice, with those sexy undertones—okay, you were getting a little sidetracked but that was honestly besides the point. Right before your very eyes was Juza in the flesh. And you didn't know whether to explain the situation or go into premature cardiac arrest on the spot. So you did both. 

"Hey, um, well, look at the time!" you blurted out, pointing to the ceiling (to which he follows your finger curiously). "I have to, um, go to the... uhhh—doctor's! That's right, the doctor's! I broke my... ribs, yeah, that's about right. I'll see ya around, maybe! Or not! Bye!" 

The last part was honestly rushed and you could barely understand the words tumbling out of your own mouth. Deciding that it was a do-or-die situation for you, you pulled the package out of your bag, thrust it into his unsuspecting hands, and ran away faster than the speed of sound. You don't even turn around to catch the look of confusion on his face as he inspects the curious choice of decoration you used.

Honestly, even if you were given the chance, you wouldn't want to explain why the package you gave him was tastefully wrapped in Valentine's Day wrapping paper even though it was the middle of autumn. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the mc is a chaotic hot mess good lord this was fun to write.


	3. my fair lady

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kingdom AU | In which you're the princess of the Sumeragi Kingdom and Banri and Juza rival for your affections.

**i.**

Banri doesn't know what he's doing in the courtyard or why he's entertaining the princess's whims. 

Maybe it was the carefree expression you had on your face as you chatted to _Hyodo_ (of all people him, really?) that made him want to sweep in there and steal your attention like a real prince charming. Or maybe it was because of that odd fluttering feeling he would get in his chest whenever that smile was actually directed at him.

Either way, Banri was stuck playing tea party with you and the person he detested the most. However, he thought that it wasn't so bad after all. 

"Say 'ahh', Ban-chan!" you chirped cheerfully, while mimicking the action in an exaggerated fashion yourself.

You held a bright pink macaron in between your fingers as you held it up to his lips. There's no doubt in his mind that the sugary treat contained way too many calories and excess junk that he really didn't need, but this wasn't an opportunity he was going to let slip from his grasp. Banri doesn't miss the jealous expression creeping on Hyodo's face at your gesture, but surprisingly that wasn't his most pressing concern at the moment.

The horrendous nickname _Ban-chan_ echoed around his head incessantly. 

Ban-chan? Where'd that even come from?

Back then, Banri knew he would have been caught dead with a nickname like that. It would completely ruin his image. He was the one who was supposed to give sweet nicknames that would instantly charm any young maiden. You were just the exception.

He would have said something witty to you in return; instead, he throws a smirk in Hyodo's direction before brazenly eating the macaron dangling precariously from your fingers. Banri takes immense satisfaction as the other male's jealousy quickly morphed into an expression of pure rage. Unfortunately, you also notice and your attention has immediately switched over once again. 

"You're frowning again, Ju-chan! Turn that frown upside down!" You reached over and boldly tugged the corners of Hyodo's lips upwards as the knight completely froze in place. 

It's no surprise Hyodo would have a soft spot for you, but it left an unsettling feeling in the pit of Banri's stomach when he watched Hyodo turn all soft and mushy for one person. He was even slightly red in the face. Disgusting. 

Banri couldn't exactly pinpoint when these feelings began to arise, or even how he brought himself to care so much for one person. But it happened, and now he's just stuck dealing with the consequences (and ugh, feelings).

He does remember how it started though. It was before this bitter rivalry, before his meeting with you, and even before becoming the royal adviser of the Sumeragi Kingdom. It started way back when he was only Banri Settsu, just another nobleman's son. 

Banri thinks it's funny how easily it was for him to be captured by your charms. While he had only intended to get close to you to spite Hyodo, the feeling blossomed into something much more. There's fondness in his gaze—that he only later realized because of the maids' gossip—and you turned over once more with a startled blink before your expression morphed into a look of amusement. 

"Oh! Banri, you're smiling!" 

Was he now? 

It feels strange to think about how literally a few months ago he went from feeling number one to wanting to be _your_ number one. 

But yeah, he supposes the feeling isn't too bad. 

**ii.**

Juza was more than annoyed. 

He had finished training a few of the newer recruits, and it had taken him a bit longer than scheduled considering that most of them were too frozen with fear to move for the first few minutes. Now he was just tired, hungry, and annoyed—a mix of emotions that he knew on his face would surely scare away any unknowing bystander.

Well, that was up until you showed up. 

Your expression immediately brightened upon seeing him and you raced over, completely ignoring the calls of the maids behind you saying that you would get mud all over your heels and clothes. You're nimble and quick on your feet, but the heel of your shoe gets caught on a particular stubborn patch of grass and you stumbled forward with an undignified yelp, falling face-first right into his chest and awaiting arms. 

Sheepishly, you lifted your head and stepped back, creating some distance. 

"Sorry, Juza. I was just really excited about seeing you before my lessons that I rushed. My bad!" 

"Just be more careful next time," Juza reprimanded. There was no bite to his words, just genuine care. 

"I will, no worries!" you laughed, brushing down the skirts of your dress. "It would be pretty bad if I got hurt in front of the mighty captain of the royal guard, huh?" 

Now you're just teasing, and Juza feels a heat creeping up his neck. Suppressing the feeling to the best of his ability, he's about to retort with a line of his own when he hears the voice of the person he would rather avoid in order to not let his mood sour any further. 

"Oh, Princess? What're you doing out here?" Settsu called from the pathway connecting the knight's barracks to the main castle.

There's unspoken animosity between the two of them, and the tension in the air is so thick Juza could cut it with a knife. You wrung your hands together nervously in the middle, and Juza could sympathize a bit. It must be awkward being caught late to your classes by the royal adviser of all people, not that he would ever acknowledge Settsu with the title. 

"What d'ya want, Settsu?" Juza barely grit out in an attempt to remain polite. 

At the same time, you blurted out, "Banri! Um, good morning?" 

As usual, Settsu doesn't waste a second in attempting to rile him up. "I could ask the same of you, Hyodo. I'm just here to escort the princess to her lesson. His Highness is wondering why his daughter hasn't shown up yet."

The unspoken _know your place_ lingered with his words, and Juza couldn't even say anything in response because he knew Settsu was right. Still, that didn't stop Juza from wanting to wipe the smug grin off Settsu's face for good. 

"If that's all you're here for, Banri, I can get going on my own. I just wanted to chat with Juza a bit before my lessons. Could you tell my father that I'll be right there?" 

Juza wanted to laugh at the way Settsu's smile fell slightly. Serves him right. 

Hiding his annoyance well, Settsu bowed before replying, "As you wish, Princess." 

When the royal adviser is out of sight, you released a breath of relief. Turning around to him, you beamed brightly. Grabbing his hand in your own (he marvels at how soft they are, and no he's not being weird), you tug him along in the general direction of the building where your classes are normally located.

The reality of the situation sinks in after the rush, and Juza tries to tug his hand away because he knows the maids are prone to gossip and a situation like this is perfect material to talk about. In response to his half-hearted tugging, you flash him a wink over your shoulder before squeezing his hand tighter in your own. 

He falls into a steady rhythm of steps beside you soon enough, and Juza realizes that you really haven't changed much since he first met you. Juza remembered the day well. He had just been knighted and his first task was to befriend the princess. Even now, he still wasn't sure what was going on in the king's mind, but he didn't complain. He got to meet you, after all.

Somewhere in his heart he just knew that once he was dedicated to serving you, he would gladly follow through for the rest of his life. 

And that fact has never changed. 

**iii.**

You smiled deviously as you sat in front of your vanity as the maids did your hair for the day. The morning sun was warm against your skin, and you bathed in the glow. Humming some nonsensical tune, you tilted your head inquisitively when you heard a soft knock on the door.

The maid stopped brushing your long, long hair for a moment (you wondered if you should get it trimmed) while you gestured for another to open the door. You don't bother asking who the visitor is, as you already had a pretty good idea who it was.

To no surprise, Tenma stepped into the room. He was most likely here to escort you to the throne room where your father was waiting for you. Something about eligible suitors visiting in hopes of earning your hand in marriage. The very idea was a waste of time. You had no intentions of getting married or succeeding the throne as intended.

Why should you bother, when there were already others competing for your affections? You weren't a cheap woman. If it was your affection the princes wished to earn, then they would join the competition with the rest. Your grin widened at the thought. 

Tenma, your adorable younger brother whom you liked to tease incessantly, sighed audibly at your expression. However, as you were previously in a good mood, you let it slide. 

"Something bothering you, brother dearest?" you said sweetly, like honey.

If only the two boys who were fighting for your affections knew how twisted and cunning you really were. Your saccharine smiles and words full of affection were nothing but a hoax. 

Tenma sighed again. You were starting to think that your brother had lost the ability to communicate properly. 

"Use your words, Ten-chan," you scolded lightly with a playful lilt to your tone. 

If your brother was annoyed, he didn't show it. Instead, he gave you an honest expression—something you didn't see often, how surprising—before replying, "You really are a terrifying person." 

You don't humor him with a reply. Instead you just smile and laugh, just as you practiced many times before. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i could not write for banri to save my life i am so sorry


	4. ashes in our wake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kimetsu no Yaiba AU | You were a brilliant wildfire, powerful and overwhelming, consuming everything in your path. He was a temperate chill, the feeling of frost beneath your fingertips as you reach out to catch the first flakes of winter.

Your breathing was labored, and your breaths started to feel like gasps. You had lost blood quickly, too quickly. Haruto's—no, that wasn't quite right— _Genta's_ laughter echoed around you. Echoing... and echoing... and echoing. The voices distorted slowly, seeping into your mind and creeping into your subconscious. 

A miscalculated step, a single millisecond too slow, and you were thrown across the clearing, weightless, before slamming into a tree. You coughed upon impact, blood spattering the snow. Your spine seared with pain against the cool unforgiving ground as Genta's voice came back to you in full volume like a douse of ice water to the face. 

"That's it?" he goaded, and you could practically _feel_ the curl of his lip as he smirked down at you with a predatory gaze. "The Demon Slaying Corps has long fallen from grace. At this rate, he would have no problem wiping out you pathetic insects for good. Me? I'm on the top now. The top!" 

You didn't concentrate on his words. Eyes glazed over and unfocused, you prioritized fumbling for your sword that had fallen a few paces away. Delirious from blood loss, you focused on the roaring of your pulse in your ears and the katana he wielded by his side. It is an odd color, for the blade is black. But the blade told you enough. He had been a slayer too—maybe a long time ago, but certainly no longer.

You remembered him, though. You remembered when he was _Yamada_ _Genta_ , before he abandoned his name and took on the alias of Asuka Haruto, before he had forsaken his humanity to become something that shouldn't have existed. He trained with you; you shared meals with him. He would have been like a brother to you, if only you didn't detest him from the very depths of your soul.

His footsteps were closer this time, and the sounds registered right by your head. Weakly, you raised yourself up on unsteady arms to take a good look at the man you had once called your comrade. He sneered, pretty face all scrunched up, as he took in the sight of your crumpled form. 

"Genta—" you gritted out through clenched teeth. You opened your mouth; the taste of copper coated your tongue, heavy and thick. "—that's you, isn't it?" 

"Rgh...! _Don't call me that_!" he snarled out. _Feral_. He drove the blade of his sword through your foot, and his facade melted away to nothing as he continued to howl at you. "I threw that name away when I decided ta leave ya all behind! You're nothin', ya hear? You're _weak_!" 

Stifling a cry and biting your lip harsh enough to _bleed_ , you forced curses down your throat that you wanted to hurl at him as he yanked the blade out without hesitation. The pain coursed through your system, but it was overwritten by your buzzing adrenaline and shot nerves. It seemed that you were beginning to lose some feeling in some of your limbs. 

You clawed yourself upright despite your shakiness, and your hands closed around worn leather as you swung for his neck. He growled viciously through gritted canines and jumped backwards to avoid your attack. An almost ferocious gleam shone in your eyes as ruby dribbled down your chin and dripped onto your chest. 

What he said was true. You had grown weak—so weak in fact, that you could no longer grant Genta the mercy you had been willing to spare for him. You missed twice already. This time, you were sure that you would finish what you had set off to do. Genta Yamada was dead. All that remained of him was a shadow of who he used to be.

Tonight, you would take back your comrade's head.

You spat out scarlet; the crimson stained your teeth. An expression akin to remorse flickered across your features before it disappeared in an instant. "Forgive me, Genta." 

And you lunged. 

▃▃▃▃▃

The fallen golden leaves crunched underneath the soles of your zori sandals. The moon, that shone so brightly above, bathed the ground in liquid silver. The forest itself is restless, and the flesh of your arms prickled with unease. You heard the murmurs of the wind and the whispers of leaves still clung to their branches. Your Kasugai crow cawed the directions loudly as you darted past the underbrush and dipped below the overhanging foliage. 

"Hurry, hurry! South-west!" it cawed loudly as you tried to navigate the densely forested area in the dim lighting. "In the forest, children are disappearing! Every night, every night! Children are disappearing!" 

You picked up the faint scent of blood from the updraft, and you knew you were closer now. Deep in the heart of the forest, amidst the looming shadows of the trees, you almost collided into silvery threads. The scent of blood filled the air. At your feet laid the remains of what used to be a member of the Demon Slaying Corps, judging by the shredded uniform.

When your eyes adjusted to the dark, you covered your mouth in dread. Bile rose to the back of your throat, and your stomach twisted itself into knots as you retched violently. Bodies upon bodies scattered the ground; the remains of your comrades littered the clearing, and the smell was _rancid_.

Remorse etched deep into your bones as you murmured a quick prayer underneath your breath. There was never going to be a time for a proper burial. You would have to leave these people behind without anything to honor their sacrifice. You needed to fight to put an end to this cycle of tragedies.

To live or to die by your blade, such was the life of a demon slayer. 

You heard a loud clash somewhere further in, and you headed towards the commotion. The air was so still and so quiet it was as if your feet thundered against the ground. In the clearing ahead, you spot the flesh-consuming monster—creatures of nightmares that belonged in children's cautionary tales. 

The lone demon slayer darted between attacks with the grace and elegance of bird in flight, gliding through the air. It was memorizing simply watching him move; it was almost like a dance. 

"Breath of Ice First Form: Crystalline Shards." The voice was mellow, with a certain melodious quality to it.

The male swung his sky blue blade as a trail of snowflakes followed in its wake. You could have sworn you've heard the voice somewhere before, if you could only remember where from. The chilly frost numbed your lips and glossed over your fingers settled on the hilt of your blade. 

Blinking out of your reverie, you reminded yourself what you were here for. The frost flaked off your hands in delicate chips, and instantly, your blade is sprung from its sheath. Flames and embers crept upon the amber-colored blade as you soared. 

"Dance of the Fire God—"

▃▃▃▃▃

"—Scorching Crimson Mirror!"

You swung your blade horizontally, and it sung through the air.

Genta lifted his blade in turn to parry the blow. Hardly breaking a sweat, he dodged to the side before swiping his sword at your forearm. Your arms strained against his inhuman strength, and you barely managed to deflect the second blow before it managed to take off your leg. You hated seeing the flames creeping up along his Nichirin blade—the remaining pieces of the past from when he was a slayer, when he was _human_.

What caught your attention was the golden, star-shaped tsuba adorning the blade. That had been your present to him when you both passed the Final Selection. You couldn't believe he kept it. The very memory sent an unpleasant churning in the pit of your gut. You tried, really tried, to imagine why it was that he abandoned everything. Even if you asked, you didn't think he would tell you.

Genta had never been an honest person, never to others or even himself. It probably was why you grew to despise him so much, since he reminded you of who you used to be before—the you that had thrown away your dignity for filthy pride, changing so much that you became a hollow shell of your former self. 

Sparks flew, Nichirin steel screeched against another, and you flipped back to avoid a strike that would have cost you an arm. Genta landed gracefully on his feet. 

He breathed slowly, and embers gathered at the base of his blade. "Breath of Flames Fifth Form: Flame Tiger." 

When the pyres roared to life, the seed of hatred in your heart blossomed. 

▃▃▃▃▃

When you finally settled back on your own two feet, you slowly exhaled. The remains of the demon were naught but a pile of ashes by your feet as the howling wind ruffled your hair and swept the ashes toward the inky black sky. You made no move to sheath your weapon.

There was something you still couldn't quite grasp. That uncomfortable feeling you had experienced before jumping into battle had not left you even after the fight was long over. Your next words were ominous.

"Why do you travel with a demon?" 

The air is thick with apprehension, and you didn't need to turn around to know he tensed his shoulders at your accusation. Your words hung heavy in the air, and you tightened your hand around the hilt of your blade. The leather is scalding against your palm. All demons were to be eradicated, no exceptions. If he was a threat to the corps, he would have to be eliminated. 

You couldn't fully comprehend what happened next, but all you remembered was that your next actions were a blur. In the split second you had sliced through the air with your blade, there was the sound of something shattering and splintering wood. Then, your blade had completely broken in half, and the split piece had lodged itself into a tree trunk fifteen paces over. 

Your wrist crackled as you readjusted your grip on what remained of your sword once you had recovered from the initial surprise. Skidding to a stop over piles of dried leaves and dead grass, you whipped around so quickly you were sure you had almost lost your balance.

The murky unsettled feeling was back, oozing down your back like tar. Your grip on the hilt loosened, and you dropped your sword. In front of you was someone you believed you would never see again after you had returned to your village only to discover it had been razed to the ground. Your throat closed up, recalling the way that you had screamed until your throat was _raw_. 

He looked almost the same as the day you had last saw him, when he had bid you farewell before the devastation. Your blood ran cold. 

"Ta-chan...?" 

His nickname slipped from your lips in a hushed gasp, a murmured whisper. It was surreal to see him standing there. There was no light in his eyes that he even registered you in front of him, but even so, there was no denying it. The demon before you was none other than Tasuku, one of your childhood friends, which meant—

"No way," you breathed out. In the gentle glow of the full moon, your eyes were trained on another figure you haven't seen in a long, long time. 

He smiled softly; an apologetic expression adorned his kind features. His navy blue, snowflake-patterned haori swayed in the breeze, and you abandoned all reason to throw your arms around him for the first time in years. You almost wept, face buried in his shoulder. 

Tsumugi doesn't say a word and soundlessly returned the embrace. 

▃▃▃▃▃

"You should have left those weaklings behind!" Genta's voice crowed as his words blurred into a haze that detached you from reality. 

Your vision grew blurry, tinged black and fuzzy at the edges. Your thoughts and emotions spiraled as everything seemed to blend together in your head. Genta's words slowly faded into hushed murmurs that were as velvety as coffin lining. 

Open blisters and callouses littered the palms of your hands and covered your fingers. The ashes, and embers, and blazing tongues of flame stemmed from your breath style scalded your arms and seared into your flesh. You swallowed your pain without a word of protest. You focused on pushing through the cuts, the nicks, and the stab wounds that wore you down. 

You launched off the sole of your good foot, twisting your body as you exchanged blow after blow relentlessly. "Dance of the Fire God: Blue Heaven!"

An evasion, a parry—had Genta always been this quick on his feet? You couldn't remember anymore. 

"Enough!" His lips curled into a ferocious snarl, all fangs and not a hint of the man he once was.

He didn't even break a sweat. Wounds that would have taken you days to heal, and broken bones that would have taken months, healed within minutes. The more you struggled, the less you were sure of your capabilities to take him down. 

"Die already! Breath of Flames Ninth Form—" The heat rolled over you in waves, the pyres roared, and the dryness of the still air made it hard to breathe. "—Purgatory." 

With faltering steps, you felt your legs buckle and dip beneath you. Ah, so this was it. 

Your eyes fluttered closed, lashes catching the soot that powdered your cheeks like snowflakes in the midst of winter. In the distance you heard your name being called frantically, and then, _silence_. 

▃▃▃▃▃

"Hey," Tsumugi greeted softly as he handed you a cup of jasmine tea, taking a seat beside you.

From his aquamarine-colored eyes, you could see the reflection of the blooming wisteria trees, and you quickly glanced away before he could catch you staring. The ceramic warmed your numb fingers, and you smiled appreciatively. 

"Thanks, Tsumugi." 

"Ah, of course. No problem."

He flushed pink, reaching up a hand to rub the back of his neck sheepishly. Your gaze didn't leave the bandages wrapped tightly around his wrist and fingers. Scars that he never had before decorated his now-toned arms, and regret weighed heavily on your soul.

Sometime during your stay at one of the Wisteria houses, Tsumugi had pulled you aside to explain everything that occurred since the night of the fire.

He told you about Kamikizaka Reni, and how the progenitor of demons had single-handedly slaughtered everyone in that tiny village you once called home. He told you about how he had left Tasuku in order to run errands, and he admitted how he should have been the one to stay behind instead. The guilt in his eyes caused you to reach over to take his hand in yours.

He explained how he came back to Tasuku on the verge of death and moments before transforming into a demon. He told you about his meeting with Hisoka, a fellow demon slayer, who had ultimately spared Tasuku's life. He recounted the days he spent training under Azuma's tutelage in order to pass the Final Selection. 

Yukishiro Azuma—the Ice Hashira, if you remembered correctly. You had met him a few times. He was gentle and serene, almost never seen without an amiable smile on his face despite the deep sorrow in his eyes. He was hauntingly beautiful, ethereal in ways only the stars sprinkled in the nighttime sky could be. You reminded yourself that you would have to thank him later for looking after Tsumugi and Tasuku when you couldn't. 

When he finished telling you his tale, you, in turn, shared yours. However, you kept your details to a minimum. You weren't proud of the person you had become the first few months you were a demon slayer. You touched the scar on your cheek that was a grim reminder of how far you had fallen and how much further you had left to fall. 

But the sound of rustling trees is peaceful, almost enough to get you to leave your worries behind even if just for a moment. There was an odd and misplaced sense of normalcy stirred in your chest as you sat on the engawa overlooking the garden. It almost brought you back to when you were children, untouched by the cruelties of the world, lying in wait for dusk to fall in order to sneak off into the night and catch fireflies by the riverbank. 

"This is nice," you commented contently, leaning into his side as you stared just past the Wisteria house's gates into the forest. This moment was truly the first breath of calm you've experienced since you had enlisted in the corps. 

The draft picked up, causing you to huddle closer to Tsumugi for warmth. Tasuku shifted a bit but resumed napping just as peacefully as he had been before with his head resting on your lap. You closed your eyes, setting your half-finished cup of tea aside.

When you opened them again, it was because you felt a sudden weight on your shoulder. Glancing over, you realized that Tsumugi had fallen asleep. The cup of unfinished tea remained in his hands that were resting on his lap. His soft breaths and locks of blue hair tickled your neck. 

The kind elderly woman, who had offered you both shelter and a meal, collected your tea cups with a tender smile before heading back and returning with a few blankets. You thanked her quietly before she retreated inside. 

Carefully, you wrapped one blanket around Tasuku before draping the other one over Tsumugi's shoulders. You felt your eyes begin to close at the relaxed atmosphere before you gradually gave up fighting the clutches of sleep and succumbed to the darkness. 

▃▃▃▃▃

_You dreamed of running among golden rice paddies in the peak of summer with Tsumugi and Tasuku, reaching out to grasp their hands as they guided you to the next greatest adventure. Though there's someone in the back calling your name for you return, you're too far gone as you raced off to chase the sun._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for clarification, i don't think i'll be continuing this so it's a standalone piece. can you believe this is a tsumugi and tasuku fic but one of my favorite things to write was describing how unfairly pretty azuma is? yeah, me neither.
> 
> damn i wish i wrote my actual kny works this good. also don't ask me why i made genta/haruto a flames user. he just looks like someone who'd watch the world burn. also 3k words brb gonna cry


	5. winter blues & spring hues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You’ve always held Tsumugi at a distance, but he’s always tried to fill the gap.

The warm sunshine filters in through the window, basking you in the warmth as you go about watering the hyacinths with a practiced diligence. Humming a light tune of a song that is stuck in your mind as you go about your task, you take the time to admire how the delicate purple petals seem to sparkle with crystal dew drops in the light. You’re about to water the hydrangeas in the neighboring planter when the small bell hanging above your shop’s door chimes twice. Stilling your movements, you listen attentively for the familiar voice of someone you knew. 

Whoever walked in doesn’t announce their presence like your regulars when you have your head in the clouds in the back of the shop, so you call out to them as you set the watering can on a spare stool to the side. “Be right there in a sec!”

You snag your hair tie from a nearby shelf of gardening tools before expertly tying up your hair in a matter of seconds. As the elastic snaps in place, you make quick work of the apron ribbon, looping it into a bow behind you, as you walk on over towards the front of the small flower shop. 

“Alright, so how can I—” you begin to say, peeking around a few overhanging branches of the dwarf peach trees, halting all your mannerisms once you come to recognize the person by the door. 

An expression of shock settles on your features as the words lay dormant on your tongue, and you feel your hands grow slack as they come to a rest by your sides. He smiles sheepishly at you from his spot in the doorway, but you notice that he makes no move to invite himself in any further. You take in a sharp breath to collect yourself again when the realization dawns on you that he truly looks no different than the last time you saw him. The day before he left, your mind supplies bitterly, and the taut expression on your face feels even more strained. 

“It’s really you...” you find yourself mumbling weakly in disbelief. The tense expression on your face loosens slightly at the familiarity of it all, but the uncomfortable atmosphere reminds you that things weren’t the same. It’ll never be the same. 

“Tsumu—” you caught yourself saying without thought and—ah, you need to calm down. With your breath catching in your throat, you hastily try and correct yourself, “Tsukioka. It’s been a while...” 

Tsumugi flinches at your use of his surname—it’s too stiff and too formal, nothing like how it was before—as his embarrassed expression morphs into one of guilt and shame. The way he says your name sends a pang of longing in your gut, but you quell the feeling as quickly as it comes and stretch a well practiced smile on your face. He’s shy and a bit more awkward than how he was before he left, which was understandable on his part. 

It’s been months, after all. Years of hidden feelings and unresolved what-ifs remain in your heart, but you know better now. 

“Can I help you?” you ask. You find yourself wringing your hands together—a nervous tic of yours—and you catch him staring as you try to shake off your nerves by stuffing your hands in your apron pockets instead. 

Tsumugi chuckles lightly, but it’s a horribly self-deprecating sound that you’ve come to know all too well. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes instead of answering your question. “Did I come at a bad time?”

He gestures to your apron and the gardening gloves you had set aside the other day, and you quickly dismiss his worries with a shake of your head. “No, not at all! Come inside and make yourself comfortable. Actually... wait here for a moment, please.”

You awkwardly shuffle around him as you make quick work of flipping the open sign right back to closed. It wasn’t as if you were going to get much business today besides a few of your regulars. Most troupes have finished up their plays, so it’s highly unlikely that you’ll have an influx of customers hoping to buy their favorite actors congratulatory bouquets. 

When you muster enough courage to turn around and face him, Tsumugi looks almost right at home in your shop that the throb in your chest almost becomes unbearable. Your smile wavers for a second before it snaps right back in place as you gesture for him to follow you to the mini break room you set up for yourself. 

There’s nothing much to look at; it’s a simple room with a singular wooden table and a couple of chairs. There’s a pruner and trowel off to the side on the tabletop alongside a few scattered pencils, loose-leaf papers, and your electric kettle still plugged into the wall. You rummage through the cabinets without a second thought, mind on autopilot as you sort through the jars of tea leaves. 

This sense of normalcy is slowly killing you on the inside, but you suppress the feeling for a bit longer, and call over your shoulder to keep your mind off of things. 

“What kind of tea would you like?” 

Tsumugi makes a startled noise, cyan eyes widening in surprise and meeting yours in a brief contact that tingles like electricity rippling through your veins. He looks like he’s about to decline, when you interject with a tired sigh. You speak firmly, with the slimmest traces of a frown. “I won’t be taking a no for an answer.” 

He laughs again, but it’s that same hollow sound, before replying, “I’ve always liked your jasmine tea.” 

“Well, you’re in luck then. I have some lavender jasmine,” you hum in confirmation, selecting the jar in the way back before closing the cabinet door. 

Pulling up the other chair, you take a seat across from him as you empty a couple spoonfuls of dried tea leaves into the boiling water. When you’re done, the jar is sealed tight and returned to its rightful spot with only the sound of boiling water filling the room. 

The silence stretches on for what feels like forever, and finally, you crack. 

“So, I heard you got back into acting.” And the moment the words fall from your lips, it’s like the room completely stills. 

It’s quiet enough that your own breathing seems loud. You wonder if you made the right decision bringing up such a delicate topic, but you also know you’re long overdue for an explanation and a reason why he disappeared. Though you already know of the details, you still want to hear them—not from Tasuku, but from Tsumugi himself. You don’t know where you stand in his heart, but at the very least, you want to believe that you were friends. 

You had been left in the dark for far too long, and it had taken Tasuku to break the news to you at the end of his first God Troupe play that Tsumugi had disappeared without saying anything. Tasuku had been upset, and you understand his frustration well. Tsumugi had been one of your closest friends, too. 

Now, he’s back, and he’s with the Mankai Company. Tasuku told you all the new details every time he stopped by after his workouts to check up on you. You spent days idling in your shop, wondering when Tsumugi was going to pay you a visit himself and worrying if he was planning to leave again without a word. However, he’s finally here, and it all feels like a dream. 

When Tsumugi meets your eyes again, you know you’re pinned under the weight of his unwavering resolve. His gaze softens a fraction into an expression strikingly similar to fondness. Your heart clenches. 

“Yes, I have,” he confesses faintly, “and this time, I won’t run away.” 

His words hit you, and you find it suddenly hard to breathe. You made a promise to yourself that you wouldn’t cry—not when you saw him again, not ever. You told yourself you wouldn’t cry for someone who didn’t care enough to say goodbye, so you don’t. But now that he was here, you don’t know how you should feel. Instead, you squeeze your hands into fists underneath the table to the point where you can feel your nails digging crescents on your palms. 

He stands up abruptly, and his chair squeaks so obnoxiously loud that you stop chewing on your lip in apprehension—when had that happened?—as you taste the warm copper. Another bad habit of yours, no wonder the worried expression on his face was back. You scold yourself mentally as you wipe the blood away with a swipe of your tongue. 

Waving your hand dismissively as if to say you were fine, you take note of his hesitation as he reluctantly sits down. 

“That’s...” you pause when your voice cracks, and he looks at you warmly as if to tell you to take your time. What do you even _say_ in a situation like this? Do you congratulate him? Praise him? 

In the end, you do neither. 

“That’s, uh. Well, that’s good,” you settle with, only relaxing once the whistle of the kettle sounds. 

You reach out a hand first, only to flinch once your fingers brush against his. Your eyes snap upwards to meet his in surprise; you force out a nervous laugh. Retracting your hand, you clutch it to your chest protectively as you stand up. “I’ll go grab the cups then.”

For some reason, when you’re rummaging through cabinets and cupboards looking for cups, you can almost picture Tasuku’s voice in your mind telling you to grow some form of spine. Tsumugi had left you for _years_ without a word, and here you were tiptoeing around the situation like you were the one who had done something wrong. You were too ridiculously soft-hearted, just like Tsumugi, and that would be your undoing. 

“You haven’t changed at all.” 

The mug clatters on the table noisily as you tilt your head to the side in confusion. Where did that even come from? 

Tsumugi, obviously flustered, stutters in an attempt to correct himself. “N-Not that it’s a bad thing! You’ve always been composed.”

You narrow your eyes, not buying it for even a second, when the realization crashes down upon you all at once. Tightening your grip on the cup in your hands, so you wouldn’t lose face, you exhale deeply. 

“This is about the God Troupe auditions, isn’t it?” 

He winces almost immediately, and you know you hit the nail right on the head. The frown on your face is prominent, and you do little to cover it up. 

“I know what happened already,” you admit, making a move to pour the tea before he could do it himself. “Tasuku had told me when I had congratulated him the night of his first successful performance. It had come as a shock to me, not seeing you up on stage. But... the past is the past, isn’t it? The fact that you mustered up the courage to stand on stage again is enough.” 

You hand him his cup of tea, and he graciously takes it with a smile. It’s one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but you discover that your mind wasn’t playing tricks on you because there is affection buried in his gaze that never fails to cause your traitorous heart to skip a beat. 

“Still, I would like to apologize,” he says, “for leaving you, and abandoning the faith you had in me.” 

Deep down, you know he really means it, but you’re not ready to forgive him. Not yet, at least. 

Thoughtfully, you trace the rim of the mug with a finger. It’s the one you had gotten as a birthday present from Tsumugi, you realize all at once; your name, custom painted on the side, is beginning to fade. 

With a resolution of your own, you look up to meet his eyes as yours shone with challenge. “If you’re sorry, then... the showdown act against the God Troupe, you have to win it.” 

Tsumugi’s surprised expression isn’t lost to you, but it quickly morphs into a smile, a true smile. “Of course. Please, watch me.” 

Your heart stutters when you come to understand the implication behind his words and the fact that he had said _me_ instead of _us_. Ignoring the butterflies in your stomach, you decide to humor him with your response. 

“I wouldn’t have eyes for anyone else.” 

The stillness that falls over you is akin to a thousand needles prickling your skin. Briefly, you entertain the idea that you had said something wrong, while Tsumugi sets his mug down suddenly before reaching over the table to caress your face in his hand. Then, very carefully, as if you were a glass sculpture that could shatter, he leans over to press a kiss on your forehead. 

When he pulls away, you’re aware that your face probably looks as warm as it feels, and Tsumugi has the nerve to smile mischievously. 

“I’ll stop by tomorrow,” he says, all hushed and quickly—firmly even, like it’s a promise—before turning and leaving you dumbstruck in the middle of your flower shop. 

The ghost of his lips linger on your forehead, and you reach up your hands to slowly cup your face as your heart races a mile a minute. _Seriously_ , you muse a bit as your cheeks glow a light pink that’s a hue reminiscent of cherry blossoms in the spring, even after all these years this man was no good for your heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> current struggle: liking tsumugi too much.

**Author's Note:**

> this is also cross-posted on my quotev account. read it [here](https://www.quotev.com/story/12438796/Denouement)!
> 
> please note i do not take requests. thank you <3


End file.
